


Broken Lore

by TheArtOfBlossoming



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Game Spoilers, Grief, Loss, Nuka World, Psychological Trauma, Survival, Swearing, Trauma, mercenary, nervous breakdown
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-09-03 01:46:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 13,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8691682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtOfBlossoming/pseuds/TheArtOfBlossoming
Summary: Life was perfect for Lorelei, ex-marine and sought after lawyer, in her new home with her heroic husband and their new baby boy. Until war changed everything. When she woke in the shelter she thought would keep her family safe, her whole world had broken...and so had she.Follow the descent of a picture-postcard housewife driven by instinct to survive into chaos and mayhem.





	1. Preface

I haven’t written a diary since I was thirteen, goodness knows why I feel like starting one now. Maybe its the mommy hormones. Maybe the sleep deprivation is scrambling my brain. Maybe…well, just maybe I realise I finally have something good to write about.

So, um, I suppose I should tell you, dear reader (and I hope it’s only one of my handsome boys!) who’s writing. My name is Lorelei Anderson , proud wife of war hero Sergeant Nate Anderson, mother of little cutie-pie, Shaun. 

It took us a few hard years to get here. When Nate was overseas, I was doing overtime in the law firm but finally, he came home in one piece, we bought our dream home and had a…. um…wonderful time in the park! A year later, here we are. One happy family. Our future looks bright!

_Bright as the sun. Terror blossoming in the sky. The earth shook, the hot gale heralding the beginning of the end. I'm falling in my dreams. I know it was the lift descending but I'm falling between hells; fiery above, icy below. I can't wake up.When I do, I can hardly move. Then I hear it. One loud shot nearby, echoing through metal halls. My life is gone...they are gone...yet here I am. What's left of me, anyway._


	2. Awake

Dear fucking diary.

Nate’s dead. Shaun is gone. Like some freak from a comic book, I woke up two centuries in the future after the world ended. Vault-Tec screwed us. 

I should have known. The number of cases against them my bosses miraculously won, like they could do no wrong. Like Vault-Tec were some kinda genius deity we all had to trust unquestioningly.

Maybe I should have stayed in the military after all, not chickened out and joined the pen-pushers. It doesn’t matter now, anyway. I’ve a gun in my hand, a hunger in my belly and I just need to be anywhere but where I am. Maybe I’ll follow that military distress signal and see if I can give this Haylen a hand. Maybe the army made it. Maybe that’s what these brothers of steel are. 

My eyes are crap since I came out of that freezer and these glasses I found are giving me a headache. Better than seeing a blur. Trust opticians to become extinct just when you finally need one.

I’m breathing. I’m moving. Can’t say I’m alive, though. This is Lore, or what’s left of her, signing off.


	3. Keep Breathing

Well, I started this ‘Dear Diary’ shit so I may as well keep going, just like my lungs keep going and my heart keeps on beating and stuff that you could loosely call food goes in one end and keeps on coming out like regular shit. Well, a mite runny, anyway.

So, I met this red-eyed trader called Trashcan Kara or some such and her freakish two-headed cow. She pointed me to Diamond City but that broadcast signal got me curious. It was on the way, after all. Wish I hadn’t bothered.

I met my first ghouls. Geez, like something out of those drive in horror movies ~~that Na~~

I fought through somehow. They may look weak and all dried out but they’re scarily fast. Note to self - take their legs out first.

Finally I got to the police station and found a bunch of tin soldiers but they’re not the real army. They’re like some kind of militarised cult of technology. They wanted to enlist my help again but I just stared at those blue doors after they’d gone in and hightailed it outta there. 

When I finally got to Diamond City, I found out that the only person who could help me was missing. Oh, the irony.

Who am I kidding. I’ll never find Shaun. This journo gal, Piper, she seems to be delusionally optimistic. I’ve always been a realist. The reason why people don’t try and find missing people these days is probably because you just add to the list if you try looking.

My family is gone. The world I knew, all gone. I don’t know who I am anymore because that Lorelei jumped out of the frying pan and into the freezer. They used to joke about my name, that I was a law unto myself. Damn right. I’m all I got left. I am the Lore of the Wasteland! 

(“Ain’t that right, Dogmeat, you daft mutt?”)


	4. Working for Bottlecaps

Another day. Slept on a damp, filthy mattress under a tarp on a stick. I’d take a shower if there was a working one. I _could_ strip naked and stand in the rain but I’m guessing that might do more than exfoliate.

Sent Piper back to her office after our little trip down the Mass Pike tunnel. Sure there’s more ghouls down there but it felt like a deathtrap. I don’t feel much like human company right now. I swear, Dogmeat is the spitting image of Milly. Whatever happened to her, I wonder? Maybe she had herself some puppies and this handsome guy is one of her descendents. (“Well, let’s say you are anyway, pal.”)

So Publick Occurences came out. Why the hell did I do that interview? Made me out to be an optimistic snob and that sure as hell wasn’t what I meant. Can’t believe that security guard took the guinea pig thing literally! No wonder they’re next to useless. At least their beloved wall got fresh paint and I got paid. Why the fuck can’t they use real money? I mean, why bottlecaps? Not easy to carry, hard to sneak when you have a pocketful rattling around and just real uncomfortable to hold. 

Found a farm near Red Rocket, harvested a few melons for caps, weeded a Raider patch and returned a locket. Keeping busy is…well. It passes the time.

Well, the light’s going and I have no lighting here. Not even a candle. Need to trade for some tomorrow, maybe see if I can wire up a lamp or two. Got a pump sorted, rigged a genny and fixed a bed up. It’ll do.


	5. A Law Unto Herself

This is the life. Wading down sewer pipes and scavenging ancient shit that smells of rust and mildew. Wearing half a junkyard, carefully crafted from scrap and deformed animals. Eating food that’s two centuries old, geez, did any nutrition survive time and radiation?

I have no idea why I put up with this crappy existence. Well now Lore-liar…not quite true. Going back into Mass Pike Tunnel, swallowing chems ‘til I rattled then blowing up that walking green lightbulb; that was a thrill. A tough fight that I’m glad I kept Dogmeat out of. I enjoyed that, maybe a little too much.

So what, is this who I am now? Mutilator of monstrosities, scourge of scumbags, resourceful recycler and scrap-a-holic? Is this, now, as good as it gets? Call it a good day if you end it still breathing with food in your belly.

Why should I stay? For the clothes? Ha! At least the postman hat I found at Walden Pond is better than the visor. I’m glad there’s no mirrors around, though. Lying again. I don’t really give a damn what I look like.

I could show myself out of this nightmare. Got plenty of ammo, only needs one….

I can’t do it. Something is making me stay. Something is making me keep going. It isn’t hope, I’ve none left. Nor duty, honour, responsibility…all gone. What is it then? I just don’t feel done, not yet. Restless. Directionless. I keep coming back to the Red Rocket, no matter how many times I venture out. Trying not to get too involved with the Abernathys. Built them some turrets so I can leave them alone except for if I need to cook anything.

Yeah, funny story. I managed to trash my cooking spit and my weapons bench in the same fucking day and can’t figure out how the heck I’m supposed to fix them with what I’ve got. That’ll teach me for scrapping stuff when I’m pissed off.

I poked around Concord a bit. Remembered the old Speakeasy there. Got quite the haul. Would have been better if I could jimmy the locks. Now, there’s a new hobby I should take up. 

So who am I now? What do you call someone who raids the Raiders? Huh. Guess I’ll stick with ‘Lore of the Wasteland’.

I’m starting to forget who I was.

~~I’m starting to forget your face~~


	6. Wandering

I hate this world. What’s left of it, anyway. Went travelling, found a flooded quarry with a guy willing to pay me for taking a dip and spinning some valves, so I did. He started the pump up and these overgrown crabs came outta their hiding spot. Dog nearly got eaten by a big one but we took it down. Then I’m poking around the guy’s caravan and find out he’s planning to invite his raider buddies over. Too close to home. He won’t be telling anyone. _Was it murder, or apocalypse justice? The lines are all blurry. I can't…_

So I carried on and ended up taking a job from some mutato-potato farmer, clearing out some nasties from a place she called ‘just round the corner.’ Ha! Took me ages to get there safely. Me and the mutt took down some ugly-looking canines along the way. We get there, its mostly radroaches, a few manageable ghouls and a kooky two-eyed Mr. Handy. I reset his parameters and now he won’t stop saying ‘Exterminate’ in a way that makes me think he won’t do jack shit in a fight. Might use him for parts, later.

Went wandering again and found a chapel with a secret tunnel leading to one of the federal supply caches. Full of clueless raiders (and tins). Cleaned it out, got beat up pretty bad but thank fuck for stimpacks and roasted don’t-remind-me-what-I’m-chewing-on meat. Anyhow, I get back to the farm woman and she says she’s 'glad to count me as a friend’. Idiot. I’m not her friend. I’m no-one’s friend anymore. My friends are all dead… No pal, stop whining at me. Canines don’t count.

Headed back to Diamond City to sell shit and buy myself a better weapon, get ammo for the .44. All that military training I threw away is now being put to good use, at least. Got a decent sniper rifle but nobody sold forty-fours. Managed to save up just over a couple thousand caps so I splurged. Got myself a pad. Yeah, real luxurious, my new shanty townhouse. Full of dust, crap, dark and does everything have to smell of noodles round here? Leastways, I have a private workshop and a place to crash. _I’m never going to risk settling down ever again._

Got a couple of jobs whilst in town. The chem dealer wanted ferns. How hard could picking flowers be, I wondered? He didn’t pay me nearly enough. Place was half-flooded and crawling with ferals. I hate feral ghouls. The other job was just clearing raiders from a clothes store. They put up a fight but mutt and I managed. There’s a safe there I’ll go back to if I ever learn how to pick that type of lock. So many abandoned safes around, it isn’t stealing. It’s freeing resources. Might actually be able to make a pretty good living. Ha…living isn’t the word. If I’m going to survive though, may as well do it comfortably.

_I dreamt about Shaun last night. I was out scavenging and heard cries. Saw a blue cot. When I looked inside, a bundle of blankets wriggled around. I pulled back the corner and he…it was hideous. A changeling, a ghoulchild. No. It was just a dream. Shaun’s gone._


	7. Weird New World

Went looking for work in the Dugout and the crazy Slavic bartender tried to rope me in to a staged bar fight. He thought it'd help the nervous wreck on the radio to find his courage. All it would find him would be black eyes and a bloodied nose, I'll wager. There was no Wanted ad but I did get approached by a noseless wonder, an Edward Degan. Turns out he works for this scientist who lives in the house the apocalypse didn't touch. Something creepy about the whole pristine thing. Still, got me plenty of work. First was a retrieval job. Vial of some mystery serum (I didn't ask). Second was to rescue a family member. Ended up in a place called Goodneighbor. Weird welcome, first a guy tries to extort money from me as I walk through the gate, then this shrivelled pirate freak calling himself the Mayor shivs him in front of everyone.

I found the bar, hired a Merc called Reedy or something as things are increasingly risky round here. Found a likely spot to look for Emogene Cabot but when the Mr. Handy Brit-bot offered me another job, I thought it would be a good chance to test the Merc and maybe get a better weapon and more ammo before I go hunting for the rich bitch. She could damn well wait.

The sniper turned out to be worth the money but he's pretty fucking annoying. Anyway, we found the woman, locked away by some cult on the riverfront. When we got back to Cabot House, it got weird. Turns out this serum makes monsters out of already monstrous men and Cabot Senior was a dangerous psychopath with a penchant for odd headgear. Apparently it had 'special powers' but I didn't see proof aside from the what the serum did to those raiders; ~~like an extreme version of some of those battle drugs they wanted to test on N…~~ I think Cabot Junior is the kind who believes in aliens, too. Or was. Not really sure he survived the visit. His dad sure didn't.


	8. Road Rage

So MacReedy and I swanned in to Cabot House. Only Edward and the old lady were home, so we discreetly helped ourselves to a bonus for that crazy job. Several bonuses, actually. 

The merc pulled me aside. I knew something was up. Those two goons that were grilling him when I walked into the V.I.P. lounge, turns out they're head honchos in a raider gang known as the Gunners and 'Longshot' here had a mind to deal with them, permanently, before they had a chance to get to him. Risky but I thought why the hell not. We'd get a good haul in ammo and supplies by the sound of it, so I agreed.

Stupid, Lore, stupid. Nearly got us both killed on several occasions. It was only due to the fact that we'd swung by the Emerald City and I'd had a chance to fix my sniper rifle up that we made it at all. They'd set up their fortress on the old Mass Pike Interchange. What's left of it. ~~I used to drive that road every weekend to see my fo~~ They had lookouts on the ground guarding the lift, but not for long. We snuck up the feeder road and took out most of the lackeys but there was a fucking Assaultron up there! I'd heard stories about them, back before….anyway I knew what it was. Glad I brought the mini nukes with me. What's a few extra rads in this place, anyhow?

So, we managed to take down Barnes and Noble and the scary gal in power armor too. Did pretty well out of it but I need a trip to the Superdupermart and the Pharmacy to stock up on all the food and meds I had to use up. Now Longshot is practically wagging his tail at me. Thinks I _like_ him. No idea how he got that impression. He gave me back his hiring fee (the dumbass) and is still following me around. Alright, I'll let him tag along for now, at least until I can't stand him any longer. He is, I have to admit, a _really_ good shot. That's one up on the mutt.


	9. Tugging At The Heartstrings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorelei and MacCready's partnership develops, somewhat onesidedly. A new lucrative opportunity presents itself.

I'm not quite sure why agreed to Longshot's request. Still not sure if I entirely trust him, either. Says he's a dad and his kid is miles away somewhere around the remains of the Capital, sick with some weird illness. Guy said he had a plan, a code and just needed a backup gun to clear this research facility and get the cure. So, I thought, why not. The salvage would be worth the trouble and it's something to do.

Must admit, I don't mind the company. Aside from his annoying comments the guy keeps to himself, shoots straight and watches my back. ~~Offers his cigarettes now and then but since I gave them up to get pre~~

The place was crawling with zombies. I mean, ferals. God I hope I don't end up like that. Better keep stocked up on Radaway. We fought our way through and eventually walked out with the Prevent for the kid and our packs bulging. Got it back to Goodneighbour so Daisy could send the stuff off with a trusted caravan. She's either in on it with him or the merc's actually telling the truth. Either way he made puppy eyes at me.I felt like a quick no-strings roll in the hay so I tried flirting. Nothing. Oh yeah…guy mentioned he's married. Fuck it, no skin off my nose.

***

Longshot got shirty with me today, picked me up on how I spelled his name. He swears he wasn't reading my diary over my shoulder but I don't believe him. Anyway, _MacCready_ and I followed up a tip we'd heard and headed for Salem. Went in the old museum there via the basement, heard a roar and something large above us that knocked plaster off of the ceiling. Mac said was I was thinking: Deathclaw. We legged it outta there. Might come back in Power Armor one day though. What we ran into next wasn't much better: bunch of oversized crab-monsters and a crazy ol' coot who talks to his gun. He gave us a job rebooting defenses but the fight was a hard one. Longshot almost lost his gun arm. Had me worried for a moment. Thank MedTek for Stimpaks! MacCready isn't too happy about the fact that we'll be eating Mirelurk for the next week or so but I did get a shiny new shellbuster out of it.

* * *

Well here's an interesting new development. To cut to the chase, Longshot flirted with me. He damn near got down on one knee, told me his wife died a few years back and gave me this little toy soldier she'd made for him. Whoa there boy! I just made with the niceties. Besides, I seem to have made myself a new friend that I'd like to get to know alot better. Let me backtrack: the merc and I ended up travelling west and eventually found a Gunner outpost by the Nuka World transit centre. I couldn't believe it, fucking Nuka World. ~~We were going to take Shaun when he turned fi~~ Wiped out the Gunners, found a guy pretending to be hurt (no blood, dead giveaway) with some sob story about his family being trapped there. I usually know when people are lying to me. Call it 'Lawyer-fu'. Anyway, got the power restored to the train, had a good ol' poke around and decided we needed to resupply before we headed through the mountain. First stop, Goodneighbor, did some trading and picked up the power armor I'd left with Kleo. Followed that with one uneventful trip back to the Big Noodle, always _lovely_ to see mean Myrna and amiable Arturo. Anyway, we prepped and left. Oh, some 'kind citizen' delivered a freakin' Christmas tree to my pad. I'm only keeping it for the extra lighting.

So, we swung by Red Rocket to pick up the other tin can, got back to the transit centre, (ham-actor Harvey was still there, neither starving nor unconscious, funny that) and took a ride. Now, I've never fallen into a trap with a prize at the end before. See, Gage had rigged the deadly gameshow so that he could get rid of his old boss and replace him with anyone who managed to run the Gauntlet. Longshot and me, we delivered. His plan, zap the souped up electro-armor with a water pistol, short it out and hit him with everything we had (which included small nuclear arms).

_I slipped up. Said Shaun would have loved a Thirst Zapper. MacCready asked me who Shaun was and I just said he was a kid I used to know. No Lore, you can't afford to think about him. He's gone. No need to ever mention him **ever** again. You're not a mom, not a wife, just a merc trying to get by. That's all. Ok, not quite all…you're the Overboss Merc now. Let's see how this shit goes down._


	10. Brave Nuka World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A change of company and bloody dreams.

The view from here is just breathtaking. Spires breaking through the mist, all the junk dissolved into a blurry haze below. Ill-defined figures moving to and fro. Peaceful, tranquil even. For moments like this, the struggle is almost worth it. Throw in a few caps and you have a deal. I'll be your boss, all you fancypants mercs, furrypanted critterfolk and masquerade nightmares.

I sent Longshot back to the Commonwealth after having met the leaders of the three gangs. Porter Gage stepped up, offered to accompany me. Besides, I want time to figure him out without any interference from the lovestruck ex-Gunner. Really don't know what he sees in me, unless I look like _her_.

MacCready left without a single word. Nothing. He usually jumps at the chance to slip a wise-ass comment in. Well, he can go cool his heels back at Red Rocket. I have work to do. First off, ol' Lefteye and me have started claiming back one of the zones. I think the Galactic Zone can go to the most dangerous gang. Yes, I have a plan and I'm not fool enough to write it down. They're all going to have to wait, though. If they're all too chicken to come and help, or thinking that whatever is out there is going to take us both down, they are going to miss out on the loot. First come, first served an' all.

_I dreamt of blood last night. Slick underfoot, red bootprints everywhere. A forest of bodyparts on poles. A creature with a metal face, stalking me. I snuck through the gory undergrowth and came upon two men, chained to the wall. I hate that that bit is a memory. There is - was - nothing I could do. They're dead or dying already. I turned the corner, slipping on entrails. In front of me I saw the bottom of two poles, stuck in the ground. I didn't want to look up. Behind me, I could hear a crowd of the metal-faced beasts breathing hungrily. Waiting. Reflected torchlight bouncing off a thicket of sharp blades danced on the walls behind the poles. My gaze travelled up, I had no control. I was forced to look.…. No blood trickled down the pole. Skin that once was a warm, rich brown was now tinged green and frosted with ice. I saw the bullet hole, the expression of fear. I saw my Nate. The head next to his I didn't quite recognise. Some older man with a white beard, his expression one of anger. I felt a tap on the shoulder and turned to see one of the beasts in my face. He lifted his mask to reveal the balding, scarred murderer who has ripped my family from me. In my dream, I visciously severed his head and stuck it upside-down on a pole._

_That woke me up. Nice one, Overboss. You've only gone and peed yourself. Too much fucking cola._


	11. Two's Company

Colter got comfortable? On _that_ bed? This corny place is growing on me though. Despite the hideous decor (and that's _before_ the raiders got to it), it has alot of potential. Ok, I've found a safe place to stash this diary so I'm going to risk writing down exactly what I think. There are so many other _wonderful_ ways to end up dead here anyway.

So, Stripe-head and me went to space. Well, the Nuka version. It was crawling with 'bots. Would I love to learn how to pull their strings! Trouble is I have zero patience for science. Can't believe they had live-ammunition militarised robots in a family park! No, wait. Yes I can. The world went to shit because it was _fucking insane_. 

Now we've found enough starcores to gain access to the terminal, the bot threat has been neutralised and the park is ours. I'm holding back on assigning it, though I know exactly who to put there.

Next up, Gage and I hit Dry Rock Gulch. That's where he got his very fetching brown cowboy hat from. I think he hates wearing it but daren't piss off the Overboss. After playing Deputy and waging the war on worms, the place was ours. Figured I'd assign this one to the one group I have any time for, the Operators. They seem happy. Smug, at least.

Next stop, Kiddy Kingdom. When Gage and I have finished de-ghouling the place and found a way to rad-scrub it, the assigning can wait. I'm getting used to having Gage in tow. I could listen to his soft drawl all day long. Overbite's pretty cute too. What can I say, surely better to have a little crush on your minion than despise him? He reminds me of someone though…he's savvy with his caps, not keen on getting wet, makes me laugh. Oh shit. I've got it. In fact, he's just about old enough to be his dad. History matches up, too. Gage wasn't always a raider. Say he found some petite gal, loved her and left her pregnant. If she found her way to Little Lamplight… heh. That'd be a doozy if it were true. Mac's long-lost dad!

Spooky Kingdom is too full of rads. That and the Great Glowdini….we've stopped short. Need reinforcements but none of the gangs will send help. Won't claim the places themselves, waiting on us to do it for them. Cowards. If they ever got organised….but I doubt it. Anyway, we decided to move on to the Safari park. It'll be perfect for the Pack. They'll be over the moon, the animals. Gage stopped me outside the gate for a chat. Seem's I've impressed him, though maybe not enough to share a bed. He made noises about not wanting to rock the boat but I must admit, I've got a bruised ego now. I think he's a mite scared of me, too…though I do appreciate earning the man's trust. I almost wish Longshot had stuck around but I don't think he and Gage get on. They say two's company, three's a crowd. Speaking of which, one of the three gangs are getting nothing from me. Not hard to guess which one. Especially since they're giving me bloody nightmares.


	12. I'ĺl Be Home for Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorelei is finally ready to set foot in Sanctuary once again.

Damn, those Nukalurks are tough. We're going to need more ammo, better guns. Most of the 'mudcrabs', as Gage calls 'em, have been dealt with. Sure I saw one of those fishmen types lurking outside, though. So, we legged it back to Nuka-Town. The slice 'n' dice crowd are pissed at me because the other two gangs have territories and they've been left 'til last. Well, they're on the naughty list. Freaks. Most freakish of the freaks.

I could sleep for a week. I needed to get away so I sent Gage off, told him I had personal business to attend to and I'd be back within a couple of weeks. If not, he gets to be Overboss whether he likes it or not….but I'll be back. Too much to do.

***

I'm back touching home base again. Had a beer and watched the bar fight at the Taphouse. Did a bit of trading, modding weapons and my new armor. Killing time waiting for the 25th to get over and done with. I'm no scrooge but neither am I filled with seasonal cheer. I've nothing left to celebrate.

So Christmas Eve rolled around and I got a little festive spirit after all, albeit from a bottle. Put on a shiny red dress that looks new (even if it doesn't smell it) and took my armor off for a few hours. Got up around 5am and came out of my pad to see colored lights and plastic trees everywhere! Noodles for breakfast. Merry friggin' kurisumasu to you too, Takahashi (and we thought he could only say one phrase).

I felt homesick. For the first time, I actually felt homesick. Try as I might those visions of sugarplums won't stop dancing in my head. Nate in last year's terrible jumper that just proved that me and knitting are arch nemeses. No, not last year. Over two centuries ago… that fucking freezing process was well named to have the word 'cry' at the beginning of it. Which I'm not doing, no way. This has got out of hand and gone way beyond tears. No feeling sorry for yourself now, Lore. The Overboss don't cry. No way. 

Back in my usual stinky but tough gear, got to RR, checked in with Dogmeat & MacCready - who turns out to be a half decent farmer. Am I weird for liking tatoes? Gave him a Ribeye steak and a bottle of Quantum. Yeah, so generous. Didn't even bother to wrap it. I walked over the bridge to Sanctuary as the sun set. Remembered when Nate used to bring me here to watch it. For a moment, I thought I saw him waiting for me, but it was that Preston guy I met back in Concord. It is so odd being back in Sanctuary Hills. In the wreck of our house, Nate approached me. He asked for help. Then I remembered, Nate was gone. Aside from the warm brown skin and a certain look in his eye, Preston really looks nothing like Nate, nor sounds like him. Preston was asking for help. It's Christmas. Couldn't exactly say no.

Oberland Station pointed me and Longshot at some raiders in Back St. Apparel. No problem. I'm getting good at headshots just like Merc-the-Reedy showed me. Gah, he complains so much. Like Gage to the power of ten. Still, we got the job done and headed back to Sanctuary.

That's it, I've had enough of a 'break'. Putting up a concrete bunk house, planting crops and rigging a working water purifier was no holiday but at least it was some kind of weird grieving process. I did enjoy scrapping a _certain_ neighbor's house with a sledge hammer a little too much. Sanctuary. Not my home anymore, even if Mr. Going to Save the World suggested it could be.

Looks like I have a new job. Wherever I go, folks are asking me to reclaim land. First Nuka World, now settlements across the Commonwealth that are not much more than a shed with beds and a veg patch. Oh…and to top it all, Garvey has decided that I'm his General. What is it with these back-seat drivers? He's placed a huge amount of trust in me. I'm not about to let on that I'm the Overbottle of Nuke 'em Raider park.

Well Season's Greetings and a Cappy Nuka Year to me.


	13. Resolutions

I should have known. Raiders can never get enough. The whole of Nuka fuckin' Fizztop World is theirs and they still want more.

So after the festivities were over and 2288 had officially started, I hung around the Commonwealth a bit. Garvey asked for help in clearing out the Castle. Brought Longshot with me and we cleaned up the crab buffet. Gross. Broken eggs everywhere and they don't even have to go off to smell bad.

Dropped by the Third Rail to collar a scavver to keep the Alphadog happy but…something about the way he screamed and ran out of the VIP room without anyone getting up from their barstools really freaked me out. Maybe they're just too used to drunken chem-heads. 

After that we headed back to Sodaville where Mac practically proposed but I turned him down. I mean, seriously.

Hooked up with Gage, sent the soppy sniper back to the Castle and let Mason the Manimal know about his new pet. He wants me to go back to Goodneighbour for an extermination job. That just seemed stupid and risky so fuck that. Went back to see Mags and her brother but they had less than nothing useful to say. Gage introduced me to Shank who gave me the lowdown on the job. More territory acquisition. Thought I could quietly scare off a few farmers and get County Crossing set up for The Operators but….I couldn't do it. On the way there we'd stumbled on the remains of a power-armored Brotherhood patrol, fused into a crater. I remembered ~~Na~~ …someone telling me about a similar incident, pre-war. I just couldn't shake the memory of his face as he told me, then for some reason I was suddenly imagining Preston being furious. That scared me, almost more than the Bladey Bunch do.

I sent Gage off and found myself back in Sanctuary by morning. Not exactly sure how I got there. I've lost it. I have no clue what I'm doing anymore. I thought I was going to wipe out the Disciples with the other two gangs then put the Pack down. I thought the Operators would be easier to live with but they're insufferable snobs. I thought I never wanted to set foot in Sanctuary again but…maybe…what if Shaun…? No. I don't know. I ended up rescuing a kidnapped settler. Garvey called me 'one of the good guys', even though I couldn't see it. Then this rough old army chick showed up and we managed to access the Castle armory. Well…maybe I should ask Preston to help me. I keep thinking about that missing detective. Even if we find him it doesn't mean that I'll ever find out what happened to my b…I mean, I gotta do something to stop that woman's whine running round my head. 'Nick Valentine'. For real? Sounds like a character from some pulp fiction novel. Let's see if Preston is as willing to give help as to ask for it. That's it. My New Year's Resolution. Get a fucking grip, Lore.


	14. Synth, You've Been Gone.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come into focus at last as Lorelei finally accepts that her son is still out there and that she's the only one who who can find him. Well, with a lot of help.

As it turns out, Garvey is a gentleman. He agreed to help me out, searching for the missing Private Eye and even though we had to abort our first attempt to go help out a tiny settlement instead, it was worth it. Not only did I get a chance to ready myself but got to know Preston better too…and I liked what I found.

Part of me wonders what the ol' one-eyed wonder is up to; whether he'll come looking for me or think I'm dead. Whether or not he really cares. Maybe the gangs have started ripping each other apart? Shame. Still, hopefully they're distracted whilst I do what I should have had the guts to do earlier.

_No, Lore, you really thought he was dead. I couldn't feel him. Maybe my mothering instinct was frozen over…now I feel it though. A glimmer of hope._

When we finally reached the old subway station on Boston Common, we suddenly found ourselves in a gangster movie. Not only that but it turns out that they'd only gone and built a fucking Vault down there. Well, _started_ to build one. Preston and I cleared out the rats and found the displaced detective in the top office, under guard. Nothing, though, could have prepared me for that meeting.

He sure sounded the part. I half expected a saxophonist to start up in the corner of the smoky room. When I opened the door and he stepped into the light…he's not human. Yellow eyes, rubber flesh missing in patches, showing the robotic workings underneath. The clockwork dick calls himself a discarded prototype Synth. He doesn't sound like a robot. I gotta wonder if there's an itty bit of real brain in there, somewhere, 'cause the guy sounds like a real cop, even dresses, smokes and drinks like one. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I stealthboyed my way round and dealt with Skinny Malone and his charming slugger of a dame. We got out, had to deal with some Minutemen business (I swear I wasn't deliberately putting it off this time) and met Nick at his office.

I don't feel like writing about the hunt in detail. I'm still too shook up from learning that my baby is likely around ten years old now. Fucking freezers. All I will say is that Dogmeat is a Good Boy, the murdering, kidnapping bastard is dead and I will find the Institute. Strike that. _We_ will find it, Preston and I. Back in the Memory Den, he got all gushy on me and I realised something. I need to move on. I need someone to hold me and tell me everything's gonna be okay. Looks like we pulled each other up out of our respective pits. Feels so good to look into warm, brown eyes again that look back at me so gently. I really don't know if I'm capable of love anymore but I told him I'll give it a shot. Heh, maybe Nick's middle name is Cupid.

Shit but that voice from the grave creeped me out. I hope Nicky isn't infected…or haunted. _He's gone, Lore. Can't hurt your family now._ ~~N~~ Preston's got my back. Momma's coming, Shaun. I just gotta get ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was intending to string out Nuka World for longer but the moment I tried quietly taking over a commonwealth settlement, the love interest path was blocked. I don't think I have it in me to play full-raider. Too much radioactive fluff.


	15. Three Kinds of Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trail leads deeper into danger but no hell will keep a wronged mother from her child.
> 
> [I hope you've played Fallout 4 through as my writing is chock full of spoilers]

Let me tell you, there's a new kind of hell nowadays. Classic burning hell and Viking freezing hell, move over. The new hell also burns. Lost souls are trapped there with hideous monsters and madmen. The difference is, this is a hell you can mark on a map.They call it 'The Glowing Sea'. This is a hell you don't have to die to get to but chances are slim you'll stay breathing for long.

I scraped enough together to get a bunch of rad meds and to fix up the two suits of power armor I'd found. We armed up and headed out. Somehow, we got past a bunch of ferals on a fun-run, scorpions the size of bubble cars, monster mosquitos and my personal favourite, deathclaws.

Virgil was hiding in a cave, nursing a green suntan and looking like he'd had a major Buffout binge. Yeah. Supermutant. Wearing eyeglasses tied to his face. He agreed to help if I get something out of the Institute for him…a cure? Fuckin' deja-vu. Ok, note to self to update the C.V. to include real-estate and rare chem retrievalist. Oh…and Courser Hunter.

We followed the signal Virgil pointed us to, to the C.I.T. ruins and then to the Greentech Genetics building. The Courser had been ploughing through Gunners and we mopped up behind. Got to the top and found three Gunners cowering before a guy in a sharp black leather coat. Damn but its too thick to go under my Operators chestplate.

The ~~guy~~ …Courser looked so human. Shot his mouth like a real jerkoff, too. Had Stealth tech but two can play at that game. Impressive but no match for me and my guy. Got the little chip out of his head (heh..they shoulda put it on his shoulder) and then listened to the Synth woman he'd come all this way to get. She was locked in a room and I saw no reason to let her out. She's not real. Not real. _She looked just like Barb from accounts_

We took the teeny bit of tech to Amari who threw her hands up and told me to find the Railroad. Underground Synth supporters who _might_ just be able to use it to find a way in. 'Follow the Freedom Trail' she says. Last time I did that it was graduation and we had to take a sip of whatever firewater Barney had in his bag if we fell off the red line. Think I was the only one to make it all the way to the Old North Church without throwing up or passing out. Lightweights. _As light as bone, as light as ash now, blowing in the radstorm._ I may as well start at the end. Don't fancy looking down at the pavement past ferals and raiders and mutts and muties when I can make a bee line for the old church and keep my head. Stone cold sober, this time, I swear.

Three hells. Fire, Ice, Radiation. It'll rain all of 'em on the Institute if they've harmed my boy.


	16. Hole in the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a moment there it looked like she was going to play happy families again but when Lore enters the Institute, what she finds will have a profound impact.

I found a way in. The decoder ring in the crypt introduced me to the resistance. Their man cracked the code and gave me the key, Virgil gave me the plans to build the door. Mad science and elbow grease and hey, presto! I'm in. Feel like I've been shot in the fucking heart.

I'm wandering round the sterile corridors, lost in more ways than one. I've hardly been here half a day and already I've seen behind their mask.

Shaun was a lie. The boy I saw isn't my son. It's a fucking fake. A synth. Sick. I feel sick.

No. My baby is gone. Not dead, though. All grown up and groomed and brainwashed and fuck if I don't see my 'nasty lawyer' side oozing out and Nate's nose and my mouth…

Come on, Lore. Engage lawyer brain. What are the facts?

We were awoken in 2227. Nate resisted the kidnapping and was murdered. _can't believe the old guy called it 'collateral damage'._ He wasn't even angry. He even continued using the man, a known psychopath, who had killed his own father. That is damn cold and calculating.

I was put back on ice until 2287. Sixty years. I missed his whole damn life.

Kellogg was around before Shaun was taken. Cybernetically enhanced. I have the evidence right here, your honor. Oh..wait. No. I sold it to Arturo for scrap.

He baited me, let me out on purpose. Set the whole elaborate thing up. Has he been….testing me? To see if his own _mother_ is 'worthy' of the great Institute? I'd bet a fuckin' turdbomb he has.

It wasn't a reunion. It was a shitty job interview. I'll play along for now, dig a little deeper, find a weakness so I can end this twisted science camp. Gage wouldn't be surprised. He'd probably love to come along for the ride but I'm leaving him outta this one. Anyway, I have experience in dealing with the kind of corporate _bullshit_ I really hoped had died out. No such luck. It just crawled into a really deep hole. Typical.

There'll be no happy ending here. No bringing a boy home and making a family with a surrogate husband in the ruins of my old life. No. The Overboss is pissed at you, _son_.


	17. Onward, Upward and Never Look Backward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorelei has been working with the Institute just long enough to make a drastic career choice.

The old boy is finally dead. Oh the irony of it. After having taken revenge on Kellogg for stealing my son I end up taking revenge on my son for using me like he used Kellogg. A quick death instead of a long, drawn out one was my last gift to him, the only mercy he deserved. My hunch was right. It _was_ Shaun who cut the power to the ice box and let me out.

I hung around under the pretence of doing Institute work just long enough to make enemies of the Railroad, Brotherhood and probably piss off Preston enough to hate me forever. I don't care. ~~He was no Nate and there's no going back now~~

Backing up a bit. Wiping out Railroad forces at Bunker Hill got me some Gauss rifles (oh boy!) and kept things sweet by deactivating the synths.

Retrieved the Beryllium Agitator from Mass Fusion (now _that_ was exciting!) and got some Brotherhood goodies.

I had enough though when 'Father' wanted me to read a scripted ( _fucking scripted_ , asshole politician!) announcement to the Commonwealth that the Institute was there to help / was in charge. No. I couldn't let those smug bastards think they had the monopoly on the future of mankind - which is so fucking hypocritical as they were just going to turn the majority of the population into synths and would end up with an elite of human scientists who would probably not have much original biological material left due to all the cyber-enhancements they'd need to keep their 'inferior' bodies going just so they could keep controlling everyone else. What, did the world blow up just so we could turn into robo-brains or some other cheapass-seats matinée movie monster?

_You're on a rant again, hon. Just breathe_ (You know what, Nate, you're gone, Shaun's gone, even the Lorelei I was, is gone. Fuck off into the past and stay there. Sorry hon.…Guard whatever is left of my soul, my love, because if that gets broken too, I'm done but now, for the love of Grognak, leave me alone!

* * *

County Crossing is ours. Forcibly persuaded the Slog to slog their guts out for us. Gage couldn't be happier and I love the way he said he'd follow me off the edge of the earth. Shank's so happy with our progress that he's moved in. We sorted a rival gang out but I am really not using those rotten teddy granades that Maxson gave me again. More trouble than it was worth.

I'm keeping busy since part of me insists on staying alive. The Operators are like spoilt kids. Well, some of them, but they're the best option. I'll keep The Pack at heel. The Disciples can go bleed out for all I care. Psychopaths.

Right now, I have to go back to Sanctuary, check in with the greaser about that holotape and load up on supplies to make County Crossing the start of something wonderfuck.


	18. I Dug His Grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the defeat of the Institute comes cold clarity.

Put a big fucknuke hole in the ground is what I did. Funny how love can turn to hate in the blink of an eye. My baby….well. I loved him until he was taken. Right up until I met him. It was just months for me. Sixty years for him. No more love now. It isn't in me anymore.

I found a holotape, a woman, would be Director of the Institute. They'd have stayed out of our lives under her but Shaun…'Father'. Hah. A trumped up scientist with delusions of grandeur. Hero of mankind my ass. Mankind, Redefined? Let me redefine mankind for you. We're really quite basic after all. Everyone is out for themselves. Some of us have a pretty twisted way of showing it though. Our needs are basic: food, water, shelter and pleasure. Oh but they forgot that last one down in the Shiny Science Well.

Preston just doesn't get it. He thought I was cold for not evacuating enemies. You can't be cryogenically frozen for damn near two centuries and not gain a little cooled perspective. He said it was a 'black mark' on the name of his precious Minutemen. Ill-trained, ill-equipped and ill-prepared bunch of cowboy wannabe's. Their worldview is painfully naïve. Wonder if I can get them to blow up the floating dick next?

Mac gets it though, like Gage does. With those two at my side I'm feeling…not safe but secure. They're as close to friends as I've got now. Just friends. I'm done making babies…I mean, look how well _that_ turned out.

War. War never changes…but it always changes us. The Commonwealth will soon be Operating under new management: Overboss Lore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This runthrough is a challenge for me. I've always been on the good guy's side (preferably the roguish, complicated, makes little mistakes but ultimately really good choices sort). 
> 
> Lorelei is different. I decided to go full raider which means choosing game options that come very unnaturally to me (as does swearing but I'm practicing ;). She's not mad, if anything her sanity is cold and hard. What she has lost has broken her. She's lost her heart...which is why the Operators symbol is so perfect for her.


	19. Fragments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, you know what they say about war...

If The Institute had just stayed in their shiny hole, the world would be so different. If they'd have abandoned ever going to the surface, there'd be no fake people, no Supermutants either, I'd wager, nor Behemoths. There'd be no Railroad and maybe the Brotherhood wouldn't have stuck their noses in. We'd still be sleeping in our pods, literatively or figuratively and if I hadn't been there to rescue the remnants of the Minutemen, The Commonwealth would belong to the radimals (irradiated mutant animals, get it?), the ferals and the raiders. Maybe we could have just died peacefully when the machines finally failed.

They just had to interfere though, didn't they? Well, they fired the first .44. I fought them with the same weapon they used against me. I'm not just talking about Kellogg's piece. No. Manipulation, twisting the truth. Like a martial artist I used one enemy's force against another and it all goes down like dominoes. The Minutemen and Railroad got me in. The Institute and the Brotherhood took out most of the Railroad. The Minutemen took out the Institute _and_ the Brotherhood.

The remains of the Railroad are hiding in their tunnels waiting for us to ferret them out. There's no more synths to help escape so they can wait, as can the Salvage yard muties that Mags wants me to deal with. I have bigger fish to fry first, though. The Minutemen are next; they are so fucking glass-half-full that they don't see how they are being used...nor how their usefulness has come to an end. Preston is a fool. Should have had the guts to claim the position of General for himself instead of telling me he doesn't trust me but continuing to follow me anyway.

Sometimes I watch myself (figuratively speaking) from behind frosted glass, as if the woman who stepped out of that cryopod tore and left her soul behind, icily stuck to the leather upholstery at her back. Sometimes, I even care. Not for long though. Bleeding hearts tend to get literal on themselves out here.

Overboss Lore, real estate acquisition specialist strikes again. The Brotherhood's giant cigar has been well and truly smoked. It was quite something..still glowing and settling by the time I got back to base camp.

So now Shank tells me there's trouble in Cappy town. Never play with knives. That's why I left Nisha's crew out of the plan. They finally had the guts to do something. Good. I needed an excuse to kick their twisted asses.

* * *

(Sleep ambushes me on the monorail. The journey isn't a long one but dreamtime fits hours into seconds. Wish I could find a way to stop dreaming.)

_I'm horrified at myself. Trapped, eternally banging on a transparent wall I'm too weak to break. The glass won't shatter but I'm the one laying in fragments across the land. I look over at the loud bang to see Nate's ghost floating there. His face…Preston's, Nate's, angry and tear-streaked…turns away from me and dissolves into dry ice. When the murderer turns around, I see not Kellogg's but the Overboss' face. My face. Not Lorelei anymore. Broken Lore._


	20. Welcome Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorelei has made her choice though maintaining a front in the Commonwealth as the Minutemen's General. She heads back to Nuka World to deal with a rogue gang.

Met Mags, William and Mason up near the power plant. Nisha's crew, the Disciples (disciples of _what_ , exactly?) had made a play for power. At the power plant. How literal of them.

I found a suit of power armor and told Mac to get in it but when I turned around, Mags had bagseyed it. Probably for the best, Longshit …oops, genuine typo there. Probably should ditch the typewriter, it's damn noisy…I meant Long _shot_ is better on foot. Mags handled the tincan pretty well, though.

We got surprise backup in the form of a bunch of ferals and reached the roof quickly. She didn't last long. I took the nightmare helm off her and she was, well, pretty average looking. Nothing special. Certainly nothing to have nightmares about ~~anymore~~.

So, I pushed the big red button and Nuka World lit up like a birthday cake! Beautiful. All ours, the Operators and their pet Pack. I went back to the Parlor, swigged a Nuka Victory and Mags was full of compliments. 'I'm nothing like them'. Who am I kidding. Mags is right. I'm the Overboss. I'm a born fucking Raider….and I'm home.

* * * 

So, on with claiming the Commonwealth. I'm technically still the General, aren't I? If I can put that dead man's uniform on, sweet-talk a few settlements into joining the Minutemen, build their farms up and then hit them for tribute later, that'd be sweet. No good demanding food off a farm with two settlers and a half dozen tatoes now, is it? Now the Big Green Jerkwad has lost its fake mayor (you're welcome) where will I stand with them? They'd better let us in. As for the Castle. Oh, that would be a prize. Technically, already mine but I don't know how long I can fool these Minutemen for.

_Or myself. Can I really live with living like this? Yes. Just. Only because I'm too afraid to die, it isn't like I believe in any kind of afterlife or after- death heaven or hell hotel. I'm scared of oblivion, just in case I wake up from it again like I did before after decades of cold, black nothing. I've got Gage and Longshot. Count them as good friends. The others are….work colleagues. I'm warming to them though. Shank too. Keep busy. Keep moving. Keep breathing. If I'm gonna be a Raider I'm gonna be the best damn Raider the Nu-KommonWealth has seen._

* * *

Somerville Place and Jamaica Plain. Two more to add to the list. Somerville will make a great tribute farm. There's kids there. They'd be better off staying put. Preston still thinks I'm his General and is acting all nice again because I'm being a good little soldier and 'helping' people. I've just had word that the Castle is expecting another attack. Please don't let it be my gangs. Not until I've secured a few more tribute farms, anyhow. I'm dyin' to take Gage round with me but that wouldn't look as convincing as the whiny merc (bless the little snipey). He complained about making him root through crap but he's no stranger to scavving. I bet Will and Mags never scavenged in their lives. Ever.

I'm itching to take over a new place. Lizzie gave me some useful tools to convince settlers to hand over territory. Maybe after I've sorted the Castle out. I'll even take my Porter along.

P.S. A Gunner almost made it through the gauntlet. It was much more fun being on the other side of the arena.


	21. In The Pink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fortune favours the brave...and the Pack. Life as the Overboss continues to get interesting

Murkwater. A wet, miserable swamp uncomfortably close to the Glow. I took some of the Pack to sniff it out for me and good ol' Gage too. First off, it just had to turn out to be a fucking Minutemen site. The General ought to know that kind of shit, right? No. So there we were sneaking through the reeds (well, Gage and I. The Pack were whooping, a good distraction actually) and we come across the Minutemen fighting a radscorp on one side and a freaking funeral on the other. They ignored the fight and carried on about whatever his name was and the woman moaning about how she wished she'd told him she loved him. Call me a cold-hearted cynic but love changes nothing. You and yours still end up in the ground and there's nothing you can do when they go out first.

There was this school nearby. Almost all the ferals there were this bright pink color, never seen the like. Turns out the food paste was doing it and increasing violent behaviour. Well, if the MurkPack just happen to be extra aggressive and dye themselves pink, I think Mason might wag his tail for me. The school had alot of scav and there are other real promising sites nearby. Should be a thrill _or the closest I get to 'happy' these days._. Four settlements claimed. 

***

Took a trip back home to pick up my caps. Not a bad haul. Had to go into the mountain to deal with the ones Nisha left behind. I'd put a concrete block in front of the doors but Gage persuaded me that the place has its use. I don't ever want to set foot in there again.

A mission from Mags. Collar a scav in the big green gem. I'm gonna make her wait. String this ‘helpful Minuteman General’ angle out a bit longer, just until we have enough farms to feed our claims. County Crossing is thriving. Built some more stalls, bought a stunning armoured skirt. There's nothing like power dressing for work. I need somewhere to hang my wardrobe. It may be time to start building myself a home. Supplies are streaming in now and the gangs are pretty happy. Gage is too. I keep catching him telling folks that I'm the best damn Overboss they ever had. Even ol' Redeye is reminding them all to be grateful.

_I can't feel much. I'm numb inside. Even chems aren't touching this and Gage gives me his disapproving half-scowl when I use. Time to cut back. I should just sell most of them anyhow. The only times I feel close to happy is with Gage, when he's happy with me. I need his approval. If he took his damn scaffolding off I'd even go so far as giving the old scoundrel a hug. I miss just being held._


	22. Blindsided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorelei's relationship with Gage deepens. Are they still only using each other or is there more? You never know what you'll discover on the road.

It has been one helluva long day. We'd crept out way before dawn whilst the stars were twinkling in the scoured indigo sky. “It'll be easier to sneak up on folks,” Gage had pointed out. Not that there had been much need. A couple of distracted Gunners, a newly legless Assaultron trying to crawl back to her masters and a smattering of common raiders. 'Shiny' had done most of said smattering and although Gage didn't said as much, I know my right hand man adores that heavily modded swatter. Thanks, Cito.

By sunrise though, the ghouled raiders of the glowing quarry were putting up a fight. Not enough to stop the Overboss and Porter Gage ploughing through to find the jackpot, though.

A vault. Yup. A fucking vault, complete with shrivelled Overseer trapped in the rubble. We cleared it and…I don't know why but I let her go. Maybe it was sympathy, if I have any of that stuff left. At least I wasn't awake for the entire time like she'd been. We lost track of time down there. It seemed that for every new corridor we unblocked, a fresh wave of monsters burst out of the floor to blindside us. I hate molerats, hunting ferals is thrilling for some twisted reason I can't quite figure out, radscorpions just plain scare me but… the Deathclaw. It glowed and I felt that chill go up my spine.

Gage lured it into the mine and then got right up into its face, the fearless bastard, cracked the tip of its horn right off. I jumped up on top of the workshop but it was fast and caught me, knocking me to the floor. I'm pretty sure my entire arm got broken, probably my shoulder too from the way it feels now. Stimpaks are great but use them in a hurry and you can heal all screwy. Better get Doc Weathers to take a close look, though the creep makes me shiver. If I can swing by the Greenwall I might use Doc Sun instead. It was close with that overgrown lizard, not to mention the mother of all angry crabs in the pool. I'm sick from radiation, mirelurk projectile puke and scorp venom, all bruised and battered. Oh, I'm flushed through and patched up but the feelings linger. Right now, I need sleep. I need… comfort. This vault, it is as much a nightmare as it is a dream. So much scav…heh. Now I'm talking like them. I hit a fucking uranium mine! Even these days when money is freaking bottlecaps, uranium is still worth a fortune. Mags and Will's eyes will pop when they hear about this place.

***Damn. I just can't sleep here.  
  
 _“Hey, um…Overboss? You alright?”_  
  
 _“No.”_  
  
 _“Ahhh…..you still hurt, boss?”_  
  
 _“It isn't that.”_  
  
 _“Hope it's nothin' I done?”_  
  
 _“No, Porter, it isn't you.”_  
  
 _“Can I do anythin', boss?”_  
  
 _“Actually……oh. Forget it.”_  
  
 _“Oh now, come on, you can't call me by my first name then back out on an order like that. Lay it on me.”_  
  
 _“Hmm. Actually…I was gonna ask you to be the one laying….by me.”_  
  
 _“…….”_  
  
 _“Oh, no, not like that. I don't feel like…um…sheathing your weapon. I mean…I never was inclined to like doing that much anyway. For anyone. Not even N...”_  
  
 _“Whu..well, boss, I never would ask..I mean, don't wanna rock the boat or nothin'. 'Sides, I'm too old fer that. One bastard escapin' my loins is more'n enough.”_  
  
 _“You have a child?”_  
  
 _“One, more, alive, dead? Does it matter?”_  
  
 _“You don't care?”_  
  
 _“Well should I now? Had me a bonnie time, didn't figure on it lasting. Almost got my ass stuck on a goddamn farm. No way I was goin' back to that. Bon squirted out the kid when I was long gone and prob'ly took it back to that little kiddie kingdom.”_  
  
 _“With the ghouls?”_  
  
 _“Nahhh, not that one boss. Capital Wasteland way, cave full o' juveniles. Calls us grown lot 'mangoes' or some such.”_  
  
 _“Ho-oo ho hah hah hah! Tell Mac he's a.. hah hah!…a 'mango' and enjoy his expression! Take that as an order for next time you see him…oh my ghoul…heh heh. How old were you when you had a kid? And how old are you now?”_  
  
 _“Ahhh…half as old as I am now, less maybe. I seen about forty odd winters I reckon.”_  
  
 _“Shit.”_  
  
 _“Shit? What, that an order too?”_  
  
 _“Just…what was the girl's name?”_  
  
 _“Bonnie. Don't mean anything, mind, just cause I remember the gal's name. Bonnie Mac… shitfuck. No way. You think….whiny boy? Fucknuke with ma granny's name on it. He's damn well got her eyes, come to think on it.”_  
  
 _“You recognise the eyes? Why, I was just given to believe it was a casual fling, Mr. Gage. Those kinds of affairs don't much focus on noticing the eyes.”_  
  
 _“Two years draggin' me along with the caravan, nights around the campfire listenin' to that pretty voice o' hers. I used to stare at those eyes, fall in 'em like a trap.…..I…I was youngun stupid back then.”_  
  
 _“Not in love? No. Sorry. You don't do things like that.”_  
  
 _“Ouch, boss! Didn't see that one comin'! Whatcha go and blindside me for?”_  
  
 _“What, by suggesting you were in love once?”_  
  
 _“By accusin' me of it.”_  
  
 _“It's nothing to be ashamed of, Gage. Nothing to hang your whole life on either 'cause it'll only try and hang you right back.”_  
  
 _“Ooh, smokin' cynicism. Nice, boss. And you much as told Mags you didn't think you were a born raider.”_  
  
 _“You heard that?”_  
  
 _“I hear more'n I see. One eye is less distractin'.”_  
  
 _“Gage?”_  
  
 _“Yeah?”_  
  
 _“C'mere. I won't bite.”_  
  
 _“(Don't tell that to the the Pack, now, heh.) Okay. I'm here.”_  
  
 _“Show me.”_  
  
 _“Naah, boss, you don't want to go lookin' under the patch. It's fuckin' ugly.”_  
  
 _“See this scar, right between my hips? Right where that bit of belly bulges over and won't ever go back flat? That is where they yanked out the Director of the frikkin' Institute. Your scar can't possibly be uglier than that.”_  
  


It was pretty damn hideous, though. It looked like most of his eyesocket had shattered and he'd carved the hopeless orb out by himself. (I checked. He did.) The sunken hollow was raw and rough as ghoul flesh to my inquisitive fingertips. He whipped that patch back on pretty quickly but I caught him blushing. He also did as I asked and just lay with me, one arm carefully, respectfully, protectively over me. Even in the deep, dark, Vault-Tec tainted cave I felt safe…and maybe just a little bit loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to step away from the diary format for  
> Lore and Gage's interaction. I chose not to add descriptives even though the gestures and expressions, the sighs and the small details were all conceived as I wrote. If you know the game well enough to be reading this then I trust you added them as you read. I hope that it focussed on the content of their exchange.  
> (Plus, Lorelei totally failed the Romance check and chose a reply that has locked her out of a second chance.)


	23. Eye of the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorelei secures her position as Warlord Overboss. Conversations with Gage and MacCready reveal just what kind of a woman Lore has become...and it isn't pleasant.

I'm damn good at what I do. That's another two outposts claimed, one more should do it. Food is becoming an issue and the lazy bastards hate farming. If they're going to hang around the place all day they can damn well put up with it. I'll sort it out but first I need to build up the farms, which means playing General of the Minutemen. Can they seriously not see through the disguise? It's as obvious as Manny Masters being Manta Man. Oh but then I forget. The Operators don't leave anyone to go blabbing.

I'm rather taken with this Hangman's Alley place, it's coming on nicely. Cosy, secure and plenty of room when you know how to build up. I must have been paying some attention to Barry. Out of all my foster dads, he was the least annoying. Maybe I should have been an architect, too, instead of a lawyer. Ah well. Shame that Shank won't even put 88 on his precious list. I suppose he has his reasons. Probably grew up in a Vault or something. 

Lawyer. Huh. Look at me now.

***

_("Make a quick exit, if ya know what's good for you. Overboss ain't up to your company right now.")_

_"Boss? Hey, um…you in there?"_

_"Hmm? Oh, staring into space again, huh?"_

_"Deep in thought, I'd say. Lot on yer mind, bein' the big boss. I get it."_

_"You do, Gage. You do, which is why I'm glad to have you by my side rather than one of those_ vitut _"_

_"Those what, now?"_

_"Ladybottoms."_

_"You mean cunts."_

_"Yes. Except it slipped out in Finnish."_

_"Finish? You lost me again, boss."_

_* sigh * "My father was from a faraway place called Finland. My mother was a translator. I was only with my real parents until I was four or five. It's amazing how much profanity the young can absorb. I wonder if I'm the last Finn on the planet?"_

_"C'mon now Lore. I mean, Boss."_

_"No, no it's alright Gage. You can call me by my name. You've more than earned that right. Just make sure no-one else takes liberties with it. Not even Shank."_

_"There y'are. Back down to earth again. Safer not to let your mind go off wanderin' overmuch. Stay sharp, stay alive."_

_"You're right, as usual Gage. You know, I figured something out."_

_"Yeah? 'Bout what, now?"_

_"Islands. It's all about islands. To make this operation run smoothly, we need to leave little islands here and there. Sanctuary for one. If we overrun everything, they'll not just resist, they'll be driven to war. We'd win of course but we'd lose in the long run. With no farmers to enslave, the gangs will starve, fight amongst themselves and we'll be forced to run from the resulting fucktillery bombardment."_

_"Shiiiit. I knew you were right fer this job. I fuckin' play-tonically adore you Overboss, you know that?"_

_"Feeling's mutual, Gage. Let's go out and tear some shit up."_

_"Will whoopie fuckin'_ do!" 

* * * 

The Make-it-Happen boys surprised me today. Gage and Shank got me a tribute chest and told me I can put one in any camp, just assign a guard and watch the caps roll in. Well, finally I get paid a decent salary for the work I put in. Only took the fucking apocalypse to get a payrise. 

Our new foothold is Egret Tours Marina. Heh…I used to love doing the anagram puzzle in the Late Edition. This place turns into 'Sanatorium Regret'. Yeah, perfect for the crazy old lady that I booted out. She thought she was a synth, was having nightmares but that was just a psychological coping method. I had a case like that once. She killed her grandkid out of neglect. You don't leave a firearm near a kid then take your eyes off them. Stupid woman. Maybe I shoulda….no. It was less kind to leave her alive but it was the sentence she derserved. _Shaun's weapon backfired and killed him. I wasn't there for him. Until the end. I took responsibility._

So off I went to the Great Green Hole to chase up a scavver that had pissed Mags and Will off. When I found her, though, that waitress that Travis keeps making puppy eyes at was there. I had to get rid of her so I managed to persuade her to go chat him up. He'd never have the guts. Anyway, off she went and I suppose the encounter had got me flustered because the scavver wasn't having any of it, wouldn't come with me somewhere more…convenient. When I finally convinced her to try on the lovely necklace, she ran away screaming, alerting DC security. Shit, I even had to put Percy down. Wonder if Myrna can fix him up again? 

It won't be a massive problem. Next time I swan into the Field of Green, I'll just claim to have seen copies of myself before I escaped. "They stole my face! It was terrifying!" That sorta thing. Best. Alibi. Ever. Well, no, one of the worst really but the joke is they're highly likely to believe it. It is indeed a mad, mad world. Gage is a mite concerned though, especially as I jumped on Somerville place without beefing it up first. Nah, crops from there'd probably come with a free extra dose of rads, anyway, so I've promised him that I'll back up my story by playing General for a while. Build up the settlements to turn into vassal farms, keep Colonel G. happy and none-the-wiser, find a few new places maybe. Give 'em some hope, get them working harder. 

For us. The Operators. Oh, and our pet Pack. The Nu-Kommonwealth is under New Management. 

_For now, I'm sitting in the eye of the storm, watching my world spin around me, Raiders and Minutemen, mutants and robots, animals and monsters. They all fight to survive, all assuming they have the right to. Maybe none of us do. This could all be a nightmare I'm having as I slowly slip away in the freezer.…but I know better. It is real. Life is a drug I just can't give up, no matter how toxic it becomes, no matter how distorted my sense of justice gets. It doesn't matter anymore. I'm alive. I'm just still breathing for kicks, now._

I'm damn good at what I do. That's another two outposts claimed, one more should do it. Food is becoming an issue and the lazy bastards hate farming. If they're going to hang around the place all day they can damn well put up with it. I'll sort it out but first I need to build up the farms, which means playing General of the Minutemen. Can they seriously not see through the disguise? It's as obvious as Manny Masters being Manta Man. Oh but then I forget. The Operators don't leave anyone to go blabbing.

I'm rather taken with this Hangman's Alley place, it's coming on nicely. Cosy, secure and plenty of room when you know how to build up. I must have been paying some attention to Barry. Out of all my foster dads, he was the least annoying. Maybe I should have been an architect, too, instead of a lawyer. Ah well. Shame that Shank won't even put 88 on his precious list. I suppose he has his reasons. Probably grew up in a Vault or something. 

Lawyer. Huh. Look at me now.

***

_("Make a quick exit, if ya know what's good for you. Overboss ain't up to your company right now.")_

_"Boss? Hey, um…you in there?"_

_"Hmm? Oh, staring into space again, huh?"_

_"Deep in thought, I'd say. Lot on yer mind, bein' the big boss. I get it."_

_"You do, Gage. You do, which is why I'm glad to have you by my side rather than one of those_ vitut _"_

_"Those what, now?"_

_"Ladybottoms."_

_"You mean cunts."_

_"Yes. Except it slipped out in Finnish."_

_"Finish? You lost me again, boss."_

_* sigh * "My father was from a faraway place called Finland. My mother was a translator. I was only with my real parents until I was four or five. It's amazing how much profanity the young can absorb. I wonder if I'm the last Finn on the planet?"_

_"C'mon now Lore. I mean, Boss."_

_"No, no it's alright Gage. You can call me by my name. You've more than earned that right. Just make sure no-one else takes liberties with it. Not even Shank."_

_"There y'are. Back down to earth again. Safer not to let your mind go off wanderin' overmuch. Stay sharp, stay alive."_

_"You're right, as usual Gage. You know, I figured something out."_

_"Yeah? 'Bout what, now?"_

_"Islands. It's all about islands. To make this operation run smoothly, we need to leave little islands here and there. Sanctuary for one. If we overrun everything, they'll not just resist, they'll be driven to war. We'd win of course but we'd lose in the long run. With no farmers to enslave, the gangs will starve, fight amongst themselves and we'll be forced to run from the resulting fucktillery bombardment."_

_"Shiiiit. I knew you were right fer this job. I fuckin' play-tonically adore you Overboss, you know that?"_

_"Feeling's mutual, Gage. Let's go out and tear some shit up."_

_"Will whoopie fuckin'_ do!" 

* * * 

The Make-it-Happen boys surprised me today. Gage and Shank got me a tribute chest and told me I can put one in any camp, just assign a guard and watch the caps roll in. Well, finally I get paid a decent salary for the work I put in. Only took the fucking apocalypse to get a payrise. 

Our new foothold is Egret Tours Marina. Heh…I used to love doing the anagram puzzle in the Late Edition. This place turns into 'Sanatorium Regret'. Yeah, perfect for the crazy old lady that I booted out. She thought she was a synth, was having nightmares but that was just a psychological coping method. I had a case like that once. She killed her grandkid out of neglect. You don't leave a firearm near a kid then take your eyes off them. Stupid woman. Maybe I shoulda….no. It was less kind to leave her alive but it was the sentence she derserved. _Shaun's weapon backfired and killed him. I wasn't there for him. Until the end. I took responsibility._

So off I went to the Great Green Hole to chase up a scavver that had pissed Mags and Will off. When I found her, though, that waitress that Travis keeps making puppy eyes at was there. I had to get rid of her so I managed to persuade her to go chat him up. He'd never have the guts. Anyway, off she went and I suppose the encounter had got me flustered because the scavver wasn't having any of it, wouldn't come with me somewhere more…convenient. When I finally convinced her to try on the lovely necklace, she ran away screaming, alerting DC security. Shit, I even had to put Percy down. Wonder if Myrna can fix him up again? 

It won't be a massive problem. Next time I swan into the Field of Green, I'll just claim to have seen copies of myself before I escaped. "They stole my face! It was terrifying!" That sorta thing. Best. Alibi. Ever. Well, no, one of the worst really but the joke is they're highly likely to believe it. It is indeed a mad, mad world. Gage is a mite concerned though, especially as I jumped on Somerville place without beefing it up first. Nah, crops from there'd probably come with a free extra dose of rads, anyway, so I've promised him that I'll back up my story by playing General for a while. Build up the settlements to turn into vassal farms, keep Colonel G. happy and none-the-wiser, find a few new places maybe. Give 'em some hope, get them working harder. 

For us. The Operators. Oh, and our pet Pack. The Nu-Kommonwealth is under New Management. 

_For now, I'm sitting in the eye of the storm, watching my world spin around me, Raiders and Minutemen, mutants and robots, animals and monsters. They all fight to survive, all assuming they have the right to. Maybe none of us do. This could all be a nightmare I'm having as I slowly slip away in the freezer.…but I know better. It is real. Life is a drug I just can't give up, no matter how toxic it becomes, no matter how distorted my sense of justice gets. It doesn't matter anymore. I'm alive. I'm just still breathing for kicks, now._

* * * 

"Are you fu…"

"Go for it, Longshot, just cuss already."

"That an order, Overboss? 'Cause I'll fucking take you up on it you crazy bitch! Why in the name of feral puke…dammit. I mean, how the hell did you get a Vertibird to show up, anyway?"

"They didn't know who let off the flare. Saw power armour and assumed, as I knew they would."

"That was a fuckin' big risk to take."

"A tactical decision. They were a good distraction, anyway."

"Until those firebreathers took it down with you onboard!"

"I jumped."

"Yeah…and nearly landed on me. No offence but fuck if I'm gonna be a fuckin' pancake."

"Go on. A few more 'fucks' before I tell on you to Dunc.."

"You don't get to say his name. Just…just don't."

"We talked about this, Longshot. He's safer there, better off without you, for now at least. You're staying with me and your dad,"

_"Only family by virtue of his pant-eels.."_

"RJ MacCready! It isn't just the genetic material that makes you family. You're under contract with the Operators now. You really should consider joining up fully. I found this suit that…."

"No. _He_ didn't raise me, you may be my boss but you're not my damn mother and I told you already, I am not joining another raider gang, period."

"Bit late now."

"…"

"We're not the Gunners."

"No. You're worse."

"I think you have that confused. We are so much more than them. You need to watch what you say, Longshot. I know you're not staying with me out of obligation; I helped you rescue your son, you helped me defeat mine. Trust me, we're square. No, you are staying because you can't go back. Your pa didn't have to lift a finger, only his dick, to have you turn out just like him. Your son, if he takes after you, could make one hell of a raider one day. Or, he could become a Minuteman. Or…"

"Or _what_?"

"Or the cure just might not work."

* * * 

MacCready almost broke my nose. Good job we were alone otherwise they would've taken him down and I'd have regretted that. Boy's got some fire, I mean, aside from that shiny new Forged Flamethrower. He won't go back to Duncan, doesn't feel like he deserves to be a dad any more. He also still feels like he owes me bigtime. I'm not gonna argue. Anyway, Porter deserves a chance to get to know his boy. Say we give it a decade and go looking for little boy blue-boils then. RJ'll have got used to the security we Operators offer. He'll gladly bring the kid to us by then. In ten years time, we'll own the Commonwealth. Hope I don't get bored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on my actual gameplay, cock-ups and all. I could reload when I do something silly but it just adds depth to the story!


End file.
